unfinished business, you and i
by scarlet lethality
Summary: we'll always be unfinished business, and perhaps we were meant to stay that way—draco & hermione / for sienna


**_happy birthday, sienna! have a great year ahead, babe. xx di_**

* * *

 _May 2, 1999_

I saw Malfoy today when I was attending the Remembrance Party at Hogwarts. He was standing far away from the crowd, looking lonely and somewhat nervous.

I wanted to approach him, but Ron was eying him angrily like he was looking for a fight. I didn't really want to be the catalyst. Not there, not then.

I do hope he's alright, though. He seemed nice enough when he talked to me in the library or the Potions Lab, this year. Perhaps he's changed, after all this time.

But then, so have I.

* * *

 _July 31, 1999_

Apparently, Harry saw fit to invite Malfoy to his birthday dinner. He's been training with Harry and the other Aurors for his internship and Harry says that he's good friends with him, now. Looking at the way they interacted, I have to believe him.

He was quite civil, to be honest, congratulating me on my 'excellent NEWT results'. (Please, as if _his_ report card wasn't full of O's either.) He even asked about Mum and Dad—which is a story Harry told him at work, I assume. I feel rather irritated at Harry for doing so, but as it went, Malfoy seemed concerned enough about the issue that I felt obliged to narrate my progress in my mission to find them.

Ron was acting snappy and grumpy again. I think it's partly because of his anger that he didn't get into the Auror force, and partly because Malfoy decided to attend the dinner. I think it's rather unfair on his part, but I didn't comment on it.

In other news, I just received an OWL from the Ministry, saying that my job application for the vacant post in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has been approved!

Things are looking up, finally.

I think I deserve it.

* * *

 _November 23, 1999_

It seems like I see Malfoy every where I go. At the Ministry, when I meet up with Harry and Ginny for dinner every other Saturday (those two seemed to be fast friends with him now), and today, I saw him at his father's trial. The trial is the case I have been working on for months now.

I honestly didn't make the connection that Draco would be involved in the matter until I saw him at court. It was just a job, and I did it. Nothing else. But looking at his face twist up as his father is sentenced to ten years in prison, I felt a pang of guilt go through me.

But why, though? The evidence I had collected, the justice that was delivered, it was all _right._ So why do I feel guilty, for something I _know_ had to be done?

I don't know.

Perhaps, at this point, I don't really care.

* * *

 _December 25, 1999_

I broke up with Ron.

We have been fighting at every turn since last month. All we do is scream and shout and cry, and I don't know why we're keeping up the charade of perfection when everything is breaking apart around us.

I feel broken-hearted, and I've cried plenty of tears. But now that the storm has blown over, all I can feel is relief.

Ron and I have been friends for so long—sort of the perfect best-friends-turned-lovers fairy tale if you've ever seen one. I thought I loved him and I thought I could say the same for him.

But fairy tales don't come true, do they? The relationship was destroying our friendship, our sanity and I realised that ending it was the only way out.

At least, it was the only way I could see.

Ron looked at me as if I'd betrayed him when I told him that we were breaking up. And, well, if that's how he's going to treat me from now on, I don't see how we can actually revive our friendship anyway.

What's the point, anyway?

Through all the pain and confusion, I can decipher one clear thought running through my mind—I've made a fucking mess of things.

* * *

 _1 January, 2000_

They say that it's a new century, a new era, that anything is possible.

That we've all got a fresh start.

And look at me, proving that saying right, even before the clock struck twelve.

Why do I keep seeing Malfoy at every fucking party I attend, anyway?

I found him when I was trying to escape Ron yesterday. I'd just downed my third (or was it fourth?) drink when he approached me with that awful smirk of his and a greeting of 'Hermione'.

Hermione. He never used to call me that.

We talked. We laughed. And I might have even cried. We were drunk to high heavens—at least _I_ was.

The next thing I knew, he was asking me whether I'd ring in the New Year with him and I kissed him.

I kissed Draco Malfoy.

And remembering it today, I feel like a traitor, like I've betrayed Ron, my friends, _everyone._ Even myself.

I feel… _angry._

My heart hurts. I think I know why. Although I'll not admit it here since it'll probably be like a confession. Or a confirmation, whatever you want to call it.

My head hurts. Shouldn't have drunk so much vodka yesterday.

Everything hurts.

* * *

 _February 14, 2000_

Who knew that Draco Malfoy was such a romantic?

Or maybe it's all for my benefit—I don't mind either way.

He took me to this fancy place on Diagon Alley (it has some naff name, can't remember it now, too sleepy), bought me a bunch of flowers and chocolates and treated my 'like a queen', in his own words.

Normally, I'd have hated such gestures (remember Roger Davies in my last year at Hogwarts?), but I'm kind of in love with Draco, so I swallowed it with a (genuine) smile on my face.

That's what scares me the most though. That I fell in love with this guy who was mostly mean and disdainful towards me in my student years and someone who belonged to the opposite side, all in one month. That I allowed a drunken kiss to transcend into one date, into two, into five and into a relationship.

But he's changed, and so have I.

Maybe that's what makes all the difference.

* * *

 _April 17, 2000_

We're breaking apart at the seams, I can feel it.

The end doesn't come in a roaring maelstrom of fire and rage like it did with Ron. Rather, it creeps up like a wave of numbing dread, determined to tear Draco and me apart.

And the funny thing is, _we_ aren't the cause of the rift. _They_ are.

 _They,_ those people who speak behind our backs, sneering at Draco and looking at me with disappointment etched in every corner of their faces. _They,_ who know that we're inevitably doomed, because _'they're so different, how can someone so great as Hermione Granger_ _exist with the likes of_ _him_ _?'_

I want to scream at Draco, tell him that their vicious talk is worthless. I don't think he'd listen, even if I did.

He doesn't really acknowledge our growing distance, nor do I.

But I can feel it, when he clutches to me so tight I feel slightly trapped when he kisses me. He _knows._ I know.

I only hope that we will overcome this.

We must.

* * *

 _Dear Draco,_

I began writing in this diary one year ago when I truly began to see you for who you were. And now, as we stand on the edge of our inevitable end, I think that it's best that you have it—a reminder of me, our love and what could have been.

I really am sorry for all that happened. Maybe we were foolish to think that this might last, despite all the censure, all the suspicion. But I can truthfully tell you that I loved you, still love you and probably always will.

We were together for such a brief time, but it was the best few months of my life. I hope you can say the same.

I knew that we're too far gone to ever hope any kind of reconciliation, but I can't help but hope for it, in my heart of hearts.

Thank you, Draco. I love you, but this is goodbye.

(Even if I wish it weren't.)

 _Yours forever,_

Hermione

* * *

 **i thought of elaborating this further, but i felt that it was perfect this way. i hope you enjoyed it!**

 **to all those who don't know, i am di (cheadsearc). i have shifted my account here because i felt like i needed to start afresh.**


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